Chapter 13 #2
“Yeah.” He grabs his phone. “Who knew Mayhem would need their own house to be able to work?”
“Are you glad you’re making your home a Mayhem exclusive joint to hang out in?” I go back to the table.
He gives me a peck on the cheek. “I’m glad I didn’t have to sell it and take a loss. Your pops said his team could help me redesign and redecorate it so it feels like a studio. I’m gonna take him up on the offer.”
I shake my head. “He sure knows how to make maximum money off of one property.”
“He’s a smart man, Lily.” Callum starts to leave. “Call me later. And if you have time, you should stop by and say hi to the guys.”
“Sounds good.”
He disappears into the mudroom. The garage door closes a few seconds later. The silence that follows is a mix of calm stillness and a potent whisper that something is about to be birthed.
Birth. Is that what I sense beneath everything? A desire to bring something to life or back to life? Or is it a desire to let my past stay lost in the ether?
“Good morning, Livianna.” Our receptionist greets me as I step into the office.
I lift my pinky finger from my tumbler as a waving gesture. “Good morning, Penelope. Do you know if Ella has any meetings today?”
“Ella’s meeting with the people from the factories Marcuc Chen wants us to consider partnering with. She’s out all day, and she leaves for New York tomorrow to continue.”
“Dammit, I forgot about that.” I continue to my studio.
I pass the conference room on the way. My marketing manager is holding a meeting with his team. I smile their way and wonder why the hell I’m not sitting in on these things.
Other than designing the clothes, I’m starting to wonder if I’m needed here. Lately, it doesn’t seem like it.
I place my belongings down and take out a bottle of prenatal vitamins I picked up on the way here. Most are like a horse pill, but the kind I got are small for women who have a hard time swallowing.
I figure if I’m going to have a baby, I’m going to do everything in my power to keep it safe. The child I lost with Callum comes to mind, and my heart crashes to the ground.
I cannot lose another baby. It would kill us both.
My phone buzzes. I take it out of my purse.
Jaxon: Let me know when you want to go over these notes. I need to put the time in my calendar.
Me: I’m at my studio now and have time if you do.
Jaxon: Give me ten minutes.
I place my belongings down and scan the room.
What should I do today?
Oh, I know. I’ll start designing my wedding dress. I take out a vitamin and place it on my desk. Downing coffee with it just doesn’t seem right after Callum’s semi-lecture.
I glance around for some water, but the tumbler I use for it is holding my soon-to-be off-limits drink. I’ll just take it at lunch.
On my drafting table is a sketchpad. The manual hand-to-paper way of drawing is particularly appealing today.
I slip off my shoes, take the notebook and a few sharp pencils, and snuggle into the corner of the couch I have in here. Today is a nurturing kind of day, and after yesterday, I could use one.
I flip the sketchpad open and let my hands do the work. The way I design is something I can’t describe to many people. I tune into the type of event a person would be at, and then the essence of that event grows into a beautiful piece.
There’s a knock on my door.
“Hey there.” Jaxon lifts his laptop. “Do you still have time to review these notes?”
“Yeah, sure.” I place my drawing down. “Why don’t we move to the round table, so we can have more room?”
“Perfect.” He gets set up.
I move next to him, sliding my sketch aside.
He peeks at it, and after a moment, he pulls it in front of him. “This is…”
“What?”
He stares at it for another beat, and then his eyes find mine. “This dress.”
“What about it?” I glance at it. “Is it not something I would make?”
“No, that’s not it at all.” He studies me with the precision of someone who knows something I don’t. “Why are you drawing this again?”
“Again?” I sink back with a growing tightness in my chest.
“You drew this exact dress in Paris. It was one of the first pieces that made me confident you were going to blow the market away.”
I take the sketch back and analyze it. “I don’t remember.”
“The one you drew before was like this, but you had colored it black. Everything is the same, down to the beading on the one shoulder.” A flash of something passes through his eyes, but it’s gone before I can name it.
I don’t want to tell him why I drew it.
For some unknown reason, I lie by omission. “I just sat down to draw something new, and this is what came out.”
“It’s one of my favorite dresses you’ve ever designed.” The weight of his words sits between us.
What’s the significance of this dress? Well, for one, it’s going to be my wedding dress.
“Thank you.” Emotions bubble up in me, and my nose stings. Shit, I’m about to cry. “Will you excuse me, Jaxon? I need to use the restroom.”
“Of course.” He takes the notebook and runs his finger over the dress’s beading.
I get up and practically run out of the room. My heart is racing, my eyes are burning, and there’s a strange pressure on my heart I can’t explain.
That’s it. I’m going to sit down and ask him point-blank what our relationship status was. I need to know. This, “We were close,” bullshit isn’t working for me anymore.
After I’m done getting myself centered and in the frame of mind where I can work next to him, I return. He’s standing near my desk, and nothing about his stance is reassuring.
I hold my head high. “Why do you look like you’re about to lecture me?”
“What is this?” He lifts his hand. Between his thumb and forefinger is my prenatal vitamin.
Oh, fuck no. I will not discuss my baby plans with a man who has mystery written across his forehead.
I reach for something that will put me in control of this conversation. “It’s my birth control pill. Happy now?”
He stares hard into my eyes. “Is this what we’ve been reduced to? You lying to me?”
“Jaxon, I am not lying to you.” I take it from him. “For a man?—”
“You can’t take birth control.” He remains frozen where he is.
My throat tightens. “How do you know that?”